


o brave new world!

by Anonymous



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, M/M, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros came back from Angband without a daemon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	o brave new world!

Maedhros came back from Angband without a daemon. Everyone knew that only orcs had no daemons. Therefore, Maedhros was an orc. 

“Nonsense,” said Fingon lightly, though his fingers tightened around Neumë’s rough black fur. Neumë barred her teeth slightly. They were very white and very sharp. 

Maglor, slightly befuddled with drink, shook his head emphatically. Lindë pecked irritably at his fingers, but he waved her off and drained his cup. With a huff, she flew to the opposite end of the room and regarded him beadily, though of course she couldn’t look at him in any other way. 

“That is what they say,” Maglor continued, pointedly ignoring his daemon’s antics. “You saw no sign of her?” 

Findekáno only shook his head. Neumë whined low in her throat and pawed nervously at the carpet. “We searched those hills for her. We did not know that elves could live without their daemons. In Aqualondë, on the Ice, they disappeared when...” 

“Yes,” Lindë’s voice broken in, fluttering her black-tipped wings. She flew back to Maglor’s side, settling on the slope of his shoulders. She picked at the long strands of his hair with her beak, tutting slightly. “Enough of that.” 

Maglor straightened up and reached again for the bottle, and Fingon raised an eyebrow. 

Defensively, Maglor said, “You try being king and see how you like it.” 

There was a muffled sound above them, the thread of rapidly moving feet. Someone rushed down the stairs and down the hallway. The door of their room was firmly shut, but still they both could make out a distressed cry. 

Maglor sighed and shook his head. “And to think he was once the most polite of us all.” 

Fingon hesitated and Neumë’s ears pricked up. 

Maglor said, rather sourly, “Well, it’s your turn now.” And then, as if regretting his words already, he continued on, softly -- “Good luck.” 

*


End file.
